


Perfect

by Soyna



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Mild Language, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soyna/pseuds/Soyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cid doesn’t think he needs to make any because he is perfect the way he is.  Once you accept someone for who they are, they become perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Content: Penis comparison.
> 
> Main Characters: Vincent Valentine and Cid Highwind.
> 
> Timeline: After Dirge is all said and done.
> 
> Author's Note: I think I missed snarky Vincent, because these insults were fun.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Thanks to ZiggyPasta for being a great Beta and friend.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don’t own, just using for my own amusement

“Are ya implying that there’s somethin’ wrong with me?”

Vincent couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Do you need a list?” It was always like this when Cid had a few beers. It only took one beer this time for him to reach the conclusion that he was insulted somehow.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ need a list! I dun need to make no New Year’s resolution 'cuz I’m fine with the way I am, ya gargoyle!” Cid downed the rest of his drink with one gulp, slammed the glass down on the table, and glared at him.

The gunman assumed that the look was supposed to be threatening. He took a sip of his own drink before he responded.

“You talk too loud.”

“’Course I do! How else ya goin' to hear me with all that damn hair coverin’ yer ears! Might as well have muffs on!” Cid yelled in return. His voice was a touch louder than normal, and Tifa, who was over at the bar, looked over to them. Shaking her head, she went back to serving the other customers in the bar.

Seventh Heaven was starting to fill up for the New Year celebration, but the night was still early. Cid didn’t have any issues with starting the celebration early, or with starting his traditional arguments early.

“You stink.”

“Fuck you, coffin breath! Do ya even know how to use a washin' machine?” The captain leaned back, took a cigarette out of the pack that was on the table and pointed it at him. “I’ll have yer pasty ass know that I shower every damn mornin’!”

“I assume that you even smoke in the shower to obtain that odour.”

Cid’s face turned red and he grit his teeth together. The unlit cigarette that he had been holding broke between his fingers, as it appeared like he was trying to come back with something to say.

“I smoke because I wanna, and it doesn’t make me stink, ya scuttle fly!”

“My mistake,” Vincent said as he placed his hand on his chest and turned slightly toward him. “I didn’t know that Eau de Cancer Fume was your preferred cologne.” Smirking as he raised the drink to his lips, the gunman was certain that there was steam coming out of the Captain’s ears. “I will have to remember that for your birthday.”

Cid raised his glass into the air and yelled at Tifa for another beer. She waved at him to acknowledge that she saw him, and went to fill up a glass for him. “Like yer old feeble brain would be able to remember, gramps.”

“I don’t look my age, which cannot be said about you. Is that grey hair in your stubble?” Leaning in a little, Vincent pretended to inspect his scruff. He didn’t really have too; the grey was visible even in the dim bar light. 

“It makes me more distinguished, ya wanker,” Cid snapped as he sat up straighter and ran his hands over his face. “Unlike the goth look you try to pull off. Ya know that it’s outta style when the renaissance was over.”

Tifa took Cid’s empty glass and replaced it with a full one. She looked at both men, and with a small smile she returned back to the other customers that were coming in to celebrate New Year’s. 

“Grunge went out twenty years ago. I was in a coffin, what’s your excuse?” Vincent took another sip of his beer, where as Cid took a gulp and squinted at him. It was one of the joys in his life to piss off the Captain. It was easy to do and extremely fruitful.

“I don’t need all those belts and them there buckles to hold up my pants.”

“I’ve never had to worry about splitting mine when I was running.” Vincent did not bother to hide his smile. He was always amused by Cid’s strange run and he hadn’t been able to bring it up nearly often enough.

“At least I've some muscle tone, Mr. Toothpick legs,” Cid grumbled and slapped his own meaty leg to emphasis his thighs. “Can rival the muscle tone of a Grand Horn with these babies.”

“I always thought that your legs were more log-like.” Vincent flexed his gauntlet threateningly in the dim light of the bar. “If you were to lose a leg, you would resemble be a totem pole.”

“I don’t think a single leg could hold up your ego,” Vincent said, and looked over to him. “You would topple and break a hip. You can’t have that happen in your old age.”

Smirking, Cid raised his glass. “Wouldn’t be a problem, as my third leg would more than make up for it.”

“Your spear doesn’t count, Cid.”

Afer seeing the blond-haired man’s face lose his grin and turn into a frown, Vincent took a victory sip.  
“Oh yeah! Like yer gun doesn’t scream overcompensation!” Cid was now standing and pointing an accusing finger at him. “I don’t see no bulge in those snug leather pants. Ha! So there!”

Vincent pushed his chair back from the table and uncrossed his legs. Next, he put his arm on the back of the chair and twisted his hips and was not shy in ensuring that the bulge was noticeable. “I’ve never had complaints.”

Cid snorted and glared at him. “My staff is bigger than yer gun.”

“There is more bang for the buck on this end.”

Vincent kept himself pushed out of the table and was aware of the other people looking at them as they went about their conversation. 

Cid stood up straight. “My pole has been in more places than yer gun!” He bellowed as he pointed at Vincent.

“It’s good that you share, Captain, but being easy is not a trait to brag about.”

Vincent was sure that Cid’s hair was going to start on due to the scarlet hue of his face. He wished he could take another victory sip, but that would have to wait as he had the advantage on the other man.

He waited to hear if Cid was able to come back with something when Tifa’s voice could be heard over the din of Seventh Heaven. “You two idiots better stop right now!” she snapped and stood at the end of the bar with her fists on her hips. “Next, you’ll be taking your pants off and asking for a measuring tape! Take your cock comparisons to the bedroom!”

The whole bar fell silent for a few moments before someone’s giggle broke through the silence. The laughter dam broke, and the bar was filled with chuckles and snorts. Cid sat back down at his chair and started muttering to himself. He pulled the beer close to his face and hunched there.

Vincent pulled the chair back into the table and leaned in close to the captain’s ear. “You won’t need your goggles to see mine.”

Vincent proved how fast his reflexes were as Cid threw the first punch. Vincent easily dodged it with a smug grin as the rest of the room filled with an even louder flourish of laughter. “I’m gonna kill ya, Dracula!”

Tifa never invited them to another New Year's.


End file.
